Chapter 72 – A Call from Hell
My steps halted at the threshold of the base.
Or rather... its ruins.
Several buildings that once stood tall were now nothing more than piles of rubble. Charred concrete walls, collapsed steel roofs, and thick black smoke still curling up into the night sky created a grim tableau—like a nightmare made real. The stench of scorched iron, blood, and zombie formaldehyde mingled in the air, sharper and more penetrating than any wound.
Medical teams were scrambling in the remaining corners. On one side, they were moving the wounded into emergency tents. On the other... they could only weep silently beside bodies that no longer moved. One or two screams echoed—a mix of despair and hysteria.
"Thirteen buildings severely damaged," reported a female soldier, her voice bitter, her body covered in dust and dried blood. "Eighty-seven wounded... twelve dead. And..." she paused, lowering her head slightly before continuing quietly, "...six others... turned."
Celestine and I exchanged glances. No words were needed. We understood.
"Have they been quarantined?" Celestine asked calmly, though the edge in her voice was sharp as a blade.
"Yes, Lady Celestine."
Just then, a scream erupted from the direction of the emergency tents. I turned toward it.
Six new zombies—freshly turned from bites. Some were still wearing medical uniforms. A cruel, bitter irony.
Celestine clenched her fists under her white cloak. Her eyes stared toward the quarantine tent like it carried a weight she couldn’t cast off. "Kill them before they kill anyone else," she said flatly, though her words were heavy. "Do it quietly... and with respect."